


Miz Dekhel

by Author_Of_Insanity101



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:04:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5663875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_Of_Insanity101/pseuds/Author_Of_Insanity101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil pays a visit to Erebor and finds himself drawn to the Dwarven Prince, Thorin Oakenshield. A year later, Thranduil returns to the mountain, but this time, Thorin makes sure he'll never leave again</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Night

Since his early childhood, Thorin, The Prince Under The Mountain, was taught to hold nothing but contempt and mistrust for the Elves of the forests. From the moment he could understand the common tongue, his father and grandfather embedded in him their beliefs and misconceptions.

"Elves are tricky creatures," His Grandfather would say. "slier than foxes and infinitely more devious. They may look like pretty faces, but underneath, they've got hearts as hard as mithral, and souls as black as coal."

All his life, these were the truths Thorin accepted, until the day the Elven King came to discuss a peace treaty between the two races.

King Thranduil was nothing like the elves of his childhood stories. He was a regal creature with skin as smooth as a well made sword, and hair the color of refined silver. Thorin was so entranced by the sheer beauty of this elf that all of the negative feelings he had been taught to harbor immediately went flying out of his head. All he could think about was that otherworldly beauty that seemed to surround King Thranduil like a fine mist. It was a unique beauty that was different from what Thorin was used to in Erebor.

As the discussions continues, and Thorin watched the elf and his Grandfather interact, he found himself becoming ashamed of his family's hatred of the elves. He cringed at every cruel word that left his grandfather's mouth, directed at the enchanting Elven king, questioning who would show all kind of disrespect to one who wanted nothing more than to be an ally.

Thorin was not the only one entranced by the visit. Thranduil watched the Dwarf prince out of the corner of his eye, noting every twitch and twinge. He pretended not to notice, but he found himself flattered by the dwarf's attention. He looked the dwarf up and down, noting the strong arms under the mithral armor, and imagined those arms around his slim waist. These images allow Thranduil to brush off the Dwarf King's cruel words, and when the time came, he left without a word, images of Thorin still flitting through his head. 

Many days past after the visit of King Thranduil, and Thorin found himself impatiently awaiting the next peace talk, although he mournfully understood that a second talk would be unlikely, after such a "warm" reception. In fact, Thorin completely expected never to lay eyes upon the beautiful elf again, save for as an enemy on a battlefield.

One evening, his grandfather took him by surprise. He summoned Thorin to the throne room, and asked him what he thought about the Elven king. Taken aback by the question, and not really knowing the answer himself, Thorin could only manage to say a single word. "Beautiful ..." His grandfather laughed loudly at the answer, slapping his knee in amusement. Thorin's face fell at this response. This laugh was not a good laugh.

.....

A year passed since King Thranduil's visit to Erebor, and still, Thorin could not get the enchanting elf off his mind. He threw himself into his work, making finer weapons and armor than any other blacksmith under the mountain. However, this was not all that the Dwarven prince made. Unbeknownst to any of his subjects, or even his own father and grandfather, Thorin also forged large, thick chains out of the purest mithral. He made a beautiful set of shackles, much too small for any dwarf's large arms, but perfect for a slender elf. These chains, as well as many other things that could only be described as toys, were all hidden in a large chest in his workshop. Some days, Thorin would go into his workshop and examine the contents of the chest, imagining the Elven King in all his ethereal beauty, wearing nothing but the chains on his wrists and ankles.

On one such day, his grandfather found him stroking the metal cuffs of the shackles, muttering two dwarfish words over and over. " _Miz Dekhel_ (My Elf)..." The Dwarven King chuckled at the sight of his grandson's antics, catching Thorin off-guard. The prince quickly stored the shackles away in the chest, his face as red as a low burning fire. He did not know what to expect from his Grandfather, but what his grandfather said next completely caught him off guard.

"You've taken a fancy of the Elven King. You want him as your _Drog_ (Slave), do you not?"

Thorin found himself blushing even harder, nodding at his grandfather's question. Surprisingly, his grandfather laughed again, that same laugh he had used a year ago when Thorin had described King Thranduil as simply beautiful. It set the dwarf prince on edge.

"If you want the Elven King, then you shall have him. He will become your willing _Dehkaz Drog_ (Elven Slave). I promise."

.....

Thorin knew that when his grandfather invited the Elven king to Erebor "to reevaluate the peace agreement", that it was a trap. He had only half believed his grandfather's promise, until the invitation was sent. While part of him was appalled by the idea of kidnapping the elf, the other part was praying to the Dwarven Gods that Thranduil would accept the invitation. However, deep down, Thorin believed that Thranduil would not come. He thought that the Elven king would reject the invitation, knowing what it was, and - as any sane Dwarf, Man, or Elf would - avoid it at all costs. His beliefs were proven false in the end, for soon, a letter arrives stating that the invitation was accepted. Thorin could not believe his luck. After a year of longing and dreaming, his elf would soon be just that. His.

......

Thranduil was well aware of the Dwarfish trap. He had expected it after the way the Dwarven prince had eyed him a year ago. In fact, part of him was surprised he had even been able to walk out of Erebor without an attempted kidnapping. Like Thorin, Thranduil had been unable to stop thinking about the young Dwarven Prince. At night, he imagined Thorin's large, strong arms pinning him to his bed before having his way with him. He imagined the dwarf's thick fingers gripping his hair, forcing him to the ground so he could ravish the elf's mouth. He imagined himself bound in strong chains as Thorin teased and tortured his helpless body over and over again. These dreams kept Thranduil in a strangely distant mood for many months, up until he got the invitation. Upon reading the runes, the elven king knew what the invitation was truly inviting him to. He knew that if he accepted this invitation, he would never return to Mirkwood. He found himself smiling as he sent his reply, eagerly awaiting the day of his arrival.

.....

Thranduil arrived at Erebor alone, riding on his enchanted elk with nothing more than a fair sized chest sitting in his lap. He came without any guards or protections, and yet walked into the Dwarven kingdom with a confident step. Thorin's grandfather laughed at the display, relishing in the knowledge that the Elven King would soon be reduced to a helpless slave. Thranduil gracefully dismounted from his elk and handed over the chest to a waiting dwarf. When questioned about the contents, Thranduil simply replied that it was a gift for the Dwarven prince. Thorin could not stop his heart from racing, and his pulse only skyrocketed when his grandfather grabbed his shoulder and smiled.

"I'll leave you in the capable hands of my grandson."

With that, the dwarven king left, leaving only Thorin and Thranduil. Thorin approached the Elven King, his breath a bit shaky with nerves as well as anticipation. Thranduil saw this, and found himself smiling. When Thorin offered to give him a proper tour of Erebor, Thranduil did not hesitate to say yes. Thorin took his hand, his large strong hand almost fully engulfing the elf's small slender hand, and gently pulled the elf through the winding corridors of Erebor. Thranduil thoroughly enjoyed the tour, listening as Thorin pointed out the masterful architecture of the kingdom, and explaining how it had been built. Thranduil absorbed this information eagerly, and was glad to note that Thorin seemed to become more confident with each word. His grip on Thranduil's hand became tighter as his confidence grew, and soon, Thorin could wait no longer.

"Would you like to see my chambers?" Thorin asked.

Thranduil's eyes gained a mischievous sparkle to them as he nodded. Thorin tugged Thranduil farther into the cavernous kingdom, and down into the lower parts of the kingdom. For a minute, his thoughts drifted to the chest still hidden in his workshop, but he quickly shook his head. He didn't want to scare the elf. No... He was going to start small. After all, he would have all the time in the world to explore once Thranduil was truly his. So, with a final turn, the two arrived at Thorin's quarters.

The room was massive, with a large bed in the center with four long bedposts carved out of the stone itself. There were soft, thick rugs on the ground, and more furs draped over the bed for blankets. Over by the bed, Thranduil could see the chest that he had brought with him, the sight of it slightly widening the elf's very visible smile.

Thorin released Thranduil's hand as they entered the room, only to close the massive metal door behind him. As it slid closed with a metallic thud, Thranduil's heart skipped a beat. He then felt Thorin's massive hands close around one of his wrists as he grabbed the elf from behind. Thorin's other hand took the chest from Thranduil setting it to the side, then taking hold of his other wrist. He then pulled down gently, bringing Thranduil to his knees. He put his mouth right up against's Thranduil's pointed ears, his breath almost tickling him.

" _Miz Dekhel_ " he whispered.

Thranduil almost melted in Thorin's grasp at those words. A shudder of pleasure passed through him as Thorin's tongue deftly licked the pointed tip of Thranduil's ear. He did this for a moment, before turning the elf towards him and releasing his wrists.

"Your clothes... Remove them" Thorin ordered softly.

With a playful smile on his face, Thranduil removed the small crown from his head, placing it on the ground in front of him. His skillful fingers then began to slowly unhook the elven clasps of his robes. He did so in a teasing manor, watching the dwarf's chest heave in thready, uneven breaths at the show. Once he had fully unhooked the robe, he slowly opened it, revealing his naked body to Thorin. He was even more beautiful than Thorin could have imagined. His pale skin was completely hairless, giving it an almost pearly sheen. His body was slim without a scar or blemish. He was absolutely perfect.

Unable to take anymore teasing, Thorin pounced on Thranduil, his thick fingers entangling themselves in the elf's long hair. He then pulled the elf's head forward into a brutal, yet passionate kiss. Thranduil surrendered willingly, opening his mouth to Thorin's probing tongue and allowing him to dictate the flow of the kiss. As he did this, his skillful fingers began to undo the clasps on Thorin's tunic, baring his broad, muscular chest. Thranduil ran his hands across the warm flesh of Thorin's chest, his fingers tangling themselves in the course black hairs of his front before slowly moving down towards towards his breeches. However, Thorin's free hand quickly grabbed Thranduil's wandering hands, gathering his wrists into his massive hand.

"Cheeky elf." Thorin whispered as he pulled out of the kiss. "I'm going to have to reign you in a bit, aren't I?"

Thranduil smiled at the words, then gestured towards the chest. Curious, Thorin pulled Thranduil towards is. Still holding his elf's wrists in one hand, he lifted the lid of the chest upward to reveal coils upon coils of soft, white rope. Thorin's breath hitched at the sight, and his eyes widened. He looked over at the Elven King, who merely got back on knees, looking down at the ground with a small smile.

"As I said before. This is a gift for the Dwarven Prince."

Thorin found himself trembling in excitement as he pulled out a single coil of rope, feeling for its strength and happy to find it to be quite so. He released Thranduil's wrists, watching as the elf placed his hands behind him in anticipation, crossing his wrists in silent submission.

"Be still." he ordered, walking around the elf until he stood directly behind him. "Be still, and don't fight me."

Fighting Thorin was the last thing on Thranduil's mind. In fact, the only thing Thranduil could think of at the moment was the dwarf standing behind him, and the coil of rope in his hands. He closed his eyes and relaxed his body as he felt the soft rope begin to wrap around his wrists. With each loop, Thorin tightened the ropes until Thranduil could not even think about moving his wrists. He gave an experimental struggle, and relished in the gently bite of the rope. He found himself becoming aroused at the feel of the ropes, and the knowledge that Thorin was far from done with him. More rope was taken from the chest, and Thorin began to tie an intricate pattern of knots across Thranduil's torso, immobilizing him further. Finally, Thorin closed the chest, looking down at the bound elf before him.

Thorin had imagined many different ways this day would end. He had pictured the Elven King fighting him after realizing the true nature of the invitation. He had imagined Thranduil escaping, vowing acts of war for such an affront. Instead, the elf seemed to want this just as much as Thorin, if not more.

Thranduil looked up at Thorin, his well roped chest heaving in uneven, thready breaths and his long silver hair hanging in his face slightly.

"What happens now, _Amin Tura_ (My Master)?"

At those words, Thorin lost any self control he still held. He pulled off his tunic, letting it fall to the floor. It was soon followed by his pants, and then his smallclothes. Thranduil looked at the naked dwarf, his eyes drawn to Thorin's manhood, and how large he was, despite being a dwarf. All of a sudden, Thorin took hold of Thranduil's hair, pushing the elf's face in between his legs. Thranduil immediately understood and opened his mouth, engulfing Thorin's manhood. The elf began to sensually lick and suck, his skillful tongue causing the dwarf to shudder in ecstacy. This went on for several minutes, Thranduil's hot mouth bringing Thorin to new height of pleasure, but before he could reach climax, Thorin pulled out. Thranduil was disappointed at first, at least, until Thorin pushed Thranduil onto the rug, turning him onto his stomach and forcing his legs apart.

The elf let out a moan at the rough treatment, that mischievous smile returning to his face. Thranduil then felt Thorin's large hands grab him by the waist, lifting his ass slightly into the air. He felt something poke at his rear end, and his breath hitched again. He half expected, and slightly hoped for Thorin to plow right in, but instead, the dwarf stopped for a moment.

"I can stop... if you want me to."

Thorin's voice was timid, nothing like the authoritative dwarf that had reduced the elf to his current position. However, Thranduil understood the reason why, and it made him smile. Thorin wanted him to enjoy this as much as him. He wanted Thranduil to want this, not for it to be forced upon him. He did not want to become a rapist.

" _Amin Tura_... Please."

He thrusted his hips up as best as he could, trying to convey what his words could not. Thorin caught on quickly, and with a cheeky smile of his own, pushed into the elf without hesitation. The elf cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as Thorin's full girth entered him, which soon turned to an almost continuous moan as Thorin began to pull himself out again, then slam back down. Never before had Thranduil experienced anything like this. Even in his fantasies with Thorin, he had never imagined the amount of pleasure he would receive from the strong dwarf. Thorin was powerful in every sense of the word, just like Thranduil had dreamed.

Thorin also found himself enjoying himself like never before. His dream for the past year had come true. The elven king, his elf, was now truly his, in body, mind, and soul. This thought caused him to pump into Thranduil at a greater pace, listening for the moans of his elf to get steadily louder and higher. They both climaxed hard, Thorin shooting into Thranduil's ass while the elf's was spent all over the rug, as well as his stomach. They both laid on the rug, panting heavily into the afterglow. Ever so slowly, Thorin pulled himself out of Thranduil, slowly sitting up and gently pulling the elf into his lap.

"You're mine now, _Miz Dekhel_ " Thorin whispered, gently stroking Thranduil's face. "Mine, and mine alone"

Thranduil smiled sleepily, leaning upward to kiss Thorin once more. As Thorin once again explores the elf's mouth with his tongue, Thranduil gently tugs at his ropes once more. They still don't budge, much to the elf's happiness. He was completely and utterly captured, at the mercy of the powerful, yet tender, Thorin. As the dwarf pulls him deeper and deeper into the kiss, Thranduil ponders what fate has in store for him next. Whatever it was, as long as he was with his dwarf, he would take whatever came his way.


	2. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil gave himself to Thorin, now Thorin wishes to give Thranduil something in return.

In the year after Thranduil’s visit to Erebor, Thorin had dreamed of taking the elf as his own, but part of him had always feared that this would never come to pass. Even when his Grandfather concocted the scheme to capture the elven king, Thorin did not dare get his hopes up. In fact, even after Thranduil was finally in his arms, he was hesitant at first, believing he would drop dead if he so much as touched the Elven King. However, his fears were soon put to rest by Thranduil’s subservient manner, and his willingness to go along with Thorin’s wishes.

As Thorin awoke after that first night, Thranduil’s bound form held tightly in his arms, he wondered why he had ever been afraid. His greatest fantasy had come true, making him one of the happiest dwarves in Middle Earth.

Unfortunately, a sour thought came to him, causing him to frown. Thranduil was not some elf that he could simply steal away. He was the Elven King. His people would come for him once they learned of his capture. He would have to release Thranduil, or risk war between the elves of Mirkwood and the dwarves of Erebor.

He looked down at Thranduil and gently eased out from underneath him, gently setting him down onto the bed. The movement caused the Elven King to awaken, slowly turning towards the dwarf. He gave a smile, one that quickly fell when he saw Thorin’s sad expression.

“Is something wrong, _Amin Tura_?”

Thorin gently grabbed the ropes binding Thranduil’s chest, pulling him up into a sitting position. His hand gently caressed the elves face, cupping his chin.

“How I wish I could keep you like this…” He whispered. “How I wish I could lock you away where nobody could touch you but me. How I wish I could truly make you _Miz Dekhel_ … But your people will want their king back.”

Thranduil gave a small chuckle, smiling up at Thorin.

“I am not their king anymore.” Thranduil explained. “I arranged for my son Legolas to assume control of the Throne of Mirkwood. I told him that in order for a lasting peace to be established between our people, I could no longer be the King.”

Thorin could not believe his ears. If Thranduil was telling the truth, then he would never have to let him go. He could keep him as his _Dekhaz Drog_ just like he wanted. Overjoyed at this thought, Thorin pounced on his elf, pinning him to the bed and kissing him roughly. Thranduil moaned, then opened his mouth to Thorin’s tongue. He fully submitted to Thorin's will, becoming like clay in the hands of a potter. He would never regret his desicion to let Thorin take him. Never.

.....

For the next few weeks, Thranduil was in an almost constant state of bondage. Thorin would tie him in intricate and interesting ways, then leave him to enjoy his captivity while the dwarf went and did his duties as Prince under the Mountain. The elf would be forced to wait in a hazy heat, unable to do more than twitch in his bonds and wait from Thorin to return and give him the release he craved.

Unbeknownst to the elf, Thorin was busy constructing a special gift for his new pet. He was having a new room carved into the side of the mountain, a place where he could keep his elf whenever he needed to leave him alone. He was having dwarves work on it night and day, agonizing over the slightest detail. After all, this was to be his elf's new home. He wanted it to be perfect in every way. Once the construction was complete, Thorin brought in the chest filled with the soft rope Thranduil had brought, as well as that hidden chest from his workshop. He opened up the latter, his eyes roaming over all of the toys he had made, and imagining using them on his elf. He then pulled out the pair of shackles he had made so very long ago, the mithral still shiny, carved with intricate runes and designs. He tucked them into one of the large pockets of his fur coat, his thoughts turning to his elf and how they would look locked around his slender wrists.

Thorin's pants suddenly felt a bit tighter than usual, and the dwarf quickly shut the chest. He left the newly completed play room, headed for his own where Thranduil awaited his return. He had left his elf tied up on the rug, his hands bound behind him in a backwards prayer style (Thranduil was incredibly flexible, much to both of their delights) with ropes forming a spiderweb pattern across his stomach. One rope of this web snaked down between his legs, wrapping around Thranduil's stiffness. His legs were forced apart, his ankles tied to a long metal bar that left him open and unable to close his legs. There was a piece of silk tied over Thranduil's eyes, blocking out the light and leaving him in a world of sensations.

He was so caught up in this world that he didn't even notice Thorin walking into the room. He quickly became aware of him when Thorin's warm hand gently came to rest on his heaving chest.

" _Amin Tura_?" Thranduil said, his voice thready with desire.

"I am here, _Miz Dekhel_." Thorin responded.

The dwarf's hand trailed across Thranduil's bound form, his soft caresses like lightning strikes to the elf already near his peak. Thorin continued to tease him, tracing words and random designs on the elf's skin, always remaining ever so slightly away from the very prominent stiffness Thranduil was presenting. Unable to take much more of this pleasurable torture, the elf began to wheeze.

"Please....." he said, his voice so unsteady he could barely get the word out. "Please.... _Amin Tura_...."

Thorin smiled down at the elf, his fingers coming ever closer to the pulsating organ. His other hand began to slowly caress Thranduil's inner thigh, sending an even greater jolt of pleasure through the elf's body.

"Please what, _Miz Dekhel_?"

Thranduil gasped, barely able to think straight with everything Thorin was doing to him.

"Please.... Take me...."

Thorin smiled at those words, then deftly untied the ropes binding the elf's ankles to the bar. In an instant, he tossed the metal bar aside, turning Thranduil onto his stomach. On shaky legs, Thranduil slowly maneuvered himself so his face was pressed into the rug and his rear end was high in the air. Thorin unbuckled his belt and his pants fell to the ground as he grabbed Thranduil's hips, pushing into the elf roughly. Thranduil cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as Thorin began thrusting, his own firmness near its peak, but cut off by the rope wrapped around it. Part of him wanted to beg Thorin to undo the rope, to let him have what he had been denied for what felt like hours, but by now, he could not even form a coherent word. All he could even think to do was moan and gasp in time with Thorin's thrusts. The elf didn't even have the strength to buck his hips, his mind lost in the sensations and pleasure overloading every nerve in his body.

So gone was his rational thought that Thranduil almost didn't notice Thorin gently tugging on the rope around his shaft, pulling it free scant seconds before shooting his load into the elf. Finally free, Thranduil practically screamed in ecstasy, shooting his own load onto the rug. The two of them finished, panting hard as Thorin tugged the silk off of Thranduil's eyes. The elf blinked slightly, then turned to Thorin, a tired, but satisfied smile.

"Thank you.... _Amin Tura_." He whispered.

In reply, Thorin took hold of Thranduil's hair, an action that almost fully renewed the elf's flaccid member, and kissed him deeply. After about a minute, he released the elf, then turned to find pants. As he did this, Thranduil slowly sat up, his arms and torso still tightly bound, watching as Thorin found his pants and redressed himself. Thorin them approached him once more, pulling the elf to his knees. Around this time, Thorin usually took his elf to the small bath chamber to clean him up, then brought him back to the room for some dinner. However, Thorin did something completely different, completely catching Thranduil off guard.

The dwarf began to slowly untie the elf, gently kissing the light red marks left by the ropes. His tongue sent waves of sensations through the elf's body, causing him to shudder and moan. As the ropes fell away and Thranduil's arms fell limply to his sides, Thorin took each arm, kissing his wrists while his large fingers began to massage the arm, returning feeling and circulation. When he was done, he stood, bidding Thranduil to do so as well. For a brief moment, Thranduil feared that he was being released, but a small grin from Thorin quieted his fears. The dwarf picked up the ropes, winding them up and tossing them over his shoulder. He left one out, however, and turned to the elf. Expectantly, Thranduil held out his wrists, bending down so the dwarf could easily reach him. However, Thorin simply smiled, pushing the elf's hands out of the way, aiming for a much more.... interesting target.

Thranduil gasped as Thorin grabbed a hold of Thranduil's manhood, wrapping the rope around the base. He cinched it tight, ensuring that it would not slide off. He left the rest of the rope untouched, forming a sort of leash. Thranduil found himself smiling at Thorin's ingenuity, and how, despite being almost completely unbound, he felt utterly helpless.

"Follow me, _Miz Dekhel_." Thorin ordered, tugging on the rope.

The elf let out a moan as he obeyed, following Thorin out the door and into the large pathways of Erebor. Many dwarves saw them, but had long since grown accustom to seeing the naked elf with their prince. Many would stare, of course, and a brave few would attempt to grab Thranduil's ass, but most would simply ignore the two and go about their day. The duo eventually reached there destination, a room Thranduil had not seen before. The door was large and appeared to be of enchanted mithral with dwarvish runes carved all upon it. As Thranduil looked at the door, he began to loosely translate what it said, and was surprised.

"The dwelling of the Former Elven King Thranduil... Property of Thorin, Prince Under the Mountain..."

Thorin smiled, then traced his fingers along the edge of the door. It seemed to react to his touch, his finger leaving a trail of pale blue light, There was a subtle click, then Thorin pushed the door open, tugging on Thranduil's rope so he would follow. Once inside the room, Thorin pushed the door closed, then untied the rope, leaving his elf free to explore unhindered. Thranduil looked around in amazement. The bed drew his attention first, with soft sheets dyed a deep green, more pillows than Thranduil thought possible, and multiple iron rings around the perfectly round base. The floor was littered with thick rugs, each different shades of greens and browns, like the forests Thranduil use to call home. He saw the chest he had brought with him upon his arrival, a piece of rope dangling out from under the lid. There was also another chest, but this one was definitely dwarfish, made out of solid iron. Thranduil walked towards it, opening the lid, and smiling.

"You made all of these?"

Thorin gave a small nod as Thranduil picked up one of his new "toys", stroking it lovingly before placing it back in the chest and closing it. He went to stand again, and then something new caught his eye. There was a large set of green curtains pulled close over on one of the walls. Thranduil approached it cautiously, his heart racing in excitement and his member regaining its earlier stiffness. He gently took the curtains and pulled them open, revealing a large window.

The mountain's wind blew through his hair, the first fresh air the elf had been given since his "capture". He took a deep breath, relishing in the feeling. While thick iron bars prevented Thranduil from going through the window, the elf could still see the forests in the distance, and could watch the sunset. Thranduil turned away from the window, facing Thorin. The dwarf seemed to be watching him in anticipation, as if waiting to see how he will react. Touched by the amount of effort, Thranduil walked over to Thorin, gracefully sinking to his knees. He took Thorin's hand, placing his forehead against the back of it.

"Thank you..."

Thorin smiled, petting Thranduil's hair. He then turned the hand Thranduil's forehead was resting on, cupping the elf's chin and tilting his head up. He gave a small smirk, then gently pulled away, leaving Thranduil kneeling on the floor. He walked behind the elf, his hand gently running down his arm before taking hold of his wrist. With his free hand, Thorin fished into his pocket and pulled out the shackles. Upon hearing the sound of the chain links jangling, Thranduil's breath quickened. He felt something close around his wrist, and was surprised to feel a layer of leather against his skin. He quickly realized the inside of the shackles were lined in order to protect his wrists. Almost instinctively, and due to weeks of being bound by the dwarf, Thranduil went to put his other wrist behind him, but Thorin stopped him, nudging his arm until the elf placed his hands in front of him.

Reaching around the elf's waist, Thorin took the other shackle, holding it open. Thranduil didn't even hesitate, placing his wrist into its waiting embrace. Thorin's hand closed around the shackle, pushing it closed with a small click. He then held Thranduil as the elf gazed upon his new jewelry. A small smile played on the elf's face as he looked over his shoulder at Thorin. He had a twinkle in his eye that caused Thorin's pants to tighten once more. Suddenly eager again, Thorin fumbled for his belt, yanking his pants down and pulling Thranduil closer to him.

"Mine..."


	3. Theft

“Mine…”

This single word was all that Thorin could say as he nipped possessively at Thranduil’s neck, leaving a trail of light bruises on the elf’s pale skin. Thorin’s large, warm hands forced his face to press against the soft rugs as the other pushed his legs apart. From his position, Thranduil could see the pile of clothes slowly building beside him.

Very soon, Thorin was completely naked, his large member poking at Thranduil’s backside. Without a single word, Thranduil canted his hips in preparation. However, Thorin gave a deep chuckle before letting go of the elf. Confused, Thranduil went to lift his head, but was immediately pushed back onto the rug.

“ _Amin Tura_ …” Thranduil gasped.

Thorin playfully ran his fingers through his elf’s hair, before speaking.

“Let’s take it slow this time.” The dwarf teased.

Thranduil was curious as to what Thorin meant, but his unspoken question was soon answered by Thorin thrusting his fingers deeply into Thranduil’s mouth. A little curious, but still wanting to please the dwarf, Thranduil began to sensually lick the digits, making sure to cover every inch that was in his mouth. Eventually, he even began to suck on each finger, imagining that they were the dwarf’s immense member.

Thorin soon removed his now saliva coated fingers and turned towards Thorin’s raised ass. With an almost evil grin, he thrusted his fingers into the elf’s opening, eliciting a long moan from the elf. He started off with just two fingers, maneuvering then around and probing at the muscle walls. With each movement, Thranduil writhed in ecstatic throws of pleasure, the sensation unlike any he had felt before.

When Thorin added a third finger, and then a fourth, Thranduil could barely think straight. It felt as if he had a living creature inside of him, probing, scratching and tickling him all at the same time, all the while, avoiding that one sweet spot that he craved to be caressed.

Thorin watched his elf’s sporadic twitches and spasms as he continued to tease and torture his elf. With each movement, Thranduil’s new shackles jingled melodically, the chain rattles sounding like beautiful music to accompany his elf’s very vocal keening.

“ _Amin Tura_ …” Thranduil gasped again, his voice unsteady and breathless.

“Not yes, _Miz Dekhel_.” Thorin teased as he pushed the rest of his hand deep into Thranduil.

Thranduil screamed in ecstasy as Thorin’s entire fist and meaty forearm were pushed deep inside of him. He felt as if he was being ripped in two, all of his nerves singing in both intense pain and immeasurable pleasure. With each twist of Thorin’s arm, Thranduil found it hard to think. He couldn’t even form a single coherent word, his senses were so overloaded by the experience and his member was harder than he ever thought possible.

He was seconds away from orgasm before Thorin pulled his arm out, leaving Thranduil on the cusp of pleasure. His hole was still gaping open and Thranduil felt the cool air of the room flowing in, causing the elf’s entire body to shiver.

Thranduil turned his head to beg Thorin for release, but his scrambled thoughts would not allow him to speak. Instead, he could only watch as Thorin wiped his hand on the rug and turn towards the large dwarven chest full of Thranduil new “toys”.

Thorin opened the chest, his eyes gazing down at all the choices he had. Each toy was shaped like a large male member, some much bigger than even his own. They were made of different metals and some even carried special enchantments embewed into the metal.

For now, Thorin simply chose one of the larger toys, one made of solid iron and almost as thick as Thorin’s arm. With a teasing glint in his eye, Thorin closed the chest and walked over to his elf, who was panting and gasping heavily. When he saw what Thorin had in his hand, he almost came right then and there. Thorin then placed the tip of the toy against Thranduil’s lip.

“Treat this like you would treat mine.” Thorin whispered seductively.

With a shudder, Thranduil opened his mouth and was caught off guard as Thorin shoved the toy deep into his mouth and almost down his throat. The rough action caused Thranduil to moan around the toy as he worked his tongue around it as best he could. Lines of drool dotted both sides of his face, must to Thorin’s amusement.

Soon, he pulled the toy from the elf’s mouth. Thranduil coughed and sputtered, his jaw slightly aching and his lips stretched from the sheer size of the toy. He barely had time to recover before the toy was shoved deep into his gaping hole. Thranduil screamed once more and most likely would have orgasmed had Thorin not pressed down on the nerve to block it.

“Not yet.” He said as he pushed the toy deeper into Thranduil. “Not yet.”

Thorin then began to thrust the toy in and out of his elf, enjoying each shudder and spasm. He would thrust at random speeds and times, leaving his elf unsure of when this pleasant torture would end. Finally, Thorin released his hold on Thranduil’s orgasm, allowing his elf to finally come.

Thranduil’s screams echoed through the room as he finally was allowed released. He convulsed on the rug, his muscles clenching all at the same time. When he was finally spent, Thorin pulled the toy out of him and put it aside.

“Thank you….” Thranduil whispered softly.

Gathering up his elf’s limp form, Thorin began roughly kissing him. Despite being thoroughly exhausted, Thranduil kissed back, opening his mouth for Thorin’s ever probing tongue. After being released from the kiss, Thorin stood up, his naked member jutting out at the elf.

“Show me how thankful you are.” The dwarf ordered.

Without hesitation, Thranduil opened his mouth once more, taking as much of Thorin’s member into his mouth as he could. That which he could not, he massaged with his nimble fingers, caressing and massaging.

Thorin was already close when Thranduil began to after only five minutes of the elf’s sensual touches, he grabbed Thranduil’s hair, shoving his member deep down his throat as he came. Thranduil made sure to swallow each drop until Thorin was fully spent. The dwarf then pulled free of the elf’s mouth with an audible pop.

Without another word, Thorin picked up his elf, placing him on the soft sheets. He contemplated crawling in bed beside him, but decided against it for now, considering the amount of pain he would most likely be in after such an intense session. So instead, he pulled the sheets over his elf’s naked body, Thranduil’s eyes already closing from exhaustion. With a final kiss, Thorin picked up his pants and pulled them back on before walking out of the room towards his own.

…..

Night fell on Erebor, and all was peaceful within the mountain kingdom. However, standing on a cliff overlooking the kingdom, Legolas and a small band of elves readied their bows. Even from the distance, they could still make out the small window carved into the side of the mountain. The iron bars left no room for argument. It was the window to the cell where King Thranduil was being held.

In order for this mission to go off peacefully, Legolas and his men fired arrows with small containers of a sleeping potion into the small window, as well as around the guards who patrolled the outer borders. Within minutes, the dwarves were all asleep with little chance of being awoken before the elf could rescue their king.

With the way now clear, the elves slipped down the cliff and towards the rocky face of the mountain. The window was quite high up, but after centuries of climbing, the mountain was barely an obstacle. Once they reached the window, Legolas peered inside and was slightly released to find his father resting peacefully. The potion would keep him asleep, insuring that this next bit wouldn’t rouse him.

Fishing into a satchel tied to his belt, Legolas pulled out a bottle of glowing white liquid. Uncorking it, Legolas poured the contents onto the bars. The liquid ate through the metal almost instantly, leaving the window open for entry.

One by one, the small band entered the room, approaching the unconscious king. Legolas practically snarled at the sight of the shackles on his father’s wrists, gesturing for one of his men to remove them. It took a moment, but the elf was able to pick the locks on the shackles and remove them.

With the elven king now fully free, Legolas wrapped his father in the sheets of the bed to cover his nakedness, then the elves slipped silently out the open window and back into the night.

…..

Thorin awoke as he usually did, going down towards the kitchen to grab breakfast for himself and for his elf. As he approached the room, he was already imagining all of the things he was going to do to Thranduil and all the toys he was going to use of him. In fact, he even had a new gift for his elf currently hidden in the large pocket of his shirt.

However, as the doors to Thranduil’s room opened, Thorin’s heart sank into his stomach. The window was completely open, the iron bars melted away by something. The sheets were missing from the bed, but more importantly, Thranduil was no longer there. On the bed, he could see the shackles he had placed on the elf not a day before laying unlocked and abandoned on the mattress.

For a dreadful moment, Thorin thought that his elf had run away, but those thoughts were quickly put to rest. Thranduil was simply too submissive, too willing, and too happy with his life in Erebor to escape. More than that, Thorin knew he hadn’t exactly left Thranduil in the condition needed to escape.

That only left one viable option. Someone had kidnapped Thranduil.

Dropping the tray of food, Thorin went to the window, examining the melted bars. As he took a closer look, he recognized the burns. The metal had been destroyed using elven magic. Considering the elves of Rivendell had no quarrel with Erebor, or any knowledge of Thranduil being there for that matter, the elves of Mirkwood were the only suspects.

Angrily, Thorin turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, but not before grabbing Thranduil’s shackles and stuffing them in his pocket. He would find his elf, and he would reclaim him, one way or the other.


End file.
